<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>The Ghost of You by orphan_account</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23116018">The Ghost of You</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account'>orphan_account</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>All Time Low (Band), Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance, Panic! at the Disco, Pierce the Veil (mentioned), Sleeping With Sirens (mentioned)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Characters Play Dungeons &amp; Dragons, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Ghosts, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 16:21:48</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,784</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23116018</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>This is from my Wattpad phase, over a year ago. I'm just transferring it here cause I use AO3 more often now.</p><p>Pete's a ghost, Patrick's in high school. And they're in San Francisco for some reason - prolly cause I thought it would be a good place for spooky stuff? Cause it's foggy? IDK. I'm rambling. Let's just get this thing started.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Patrick Stump/Pete Wentz</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The New House</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Patrick didn't like it.</p>
<p>He didn't like it at all.</p>
<p>Actually, the house itself wasn't bad. He liked all the arches and overhangs and fancy little details. It reminded him of the Burrow a little bit. Patrick loved the Harry Potter series.</p>
<p>But it was in San Francisco. 2,129 miles away from Chicago. 2,129 miles away from Joe and Andy.</p>
<p>Patrick had a phone, obviously. He was sixteen. It was an essential part of teenage life. But texting, calling, and video chatting are very different from hanging out in real life. Plus Patrick would miss all of the things that happened with Joe and Andy. And school sucks when you're not with your best friends.</p>
<p>Patrick, Joe, and Andy always played D&amp;D at lunch. They had since fifth grade. Patrick was the dungeon master. He had no idea what he would do at his new school without Grizzella the orc and Kinsley the dwarf.</p>
<p>The moving van arrived a few minutes after Patrick and his mother. They helped the movers unload the boxes and furniture onto the lawn. After everything was out of the van and the movers had left, Patrick's mother found the key under the doormat. The key was just as ornate and rustic as the rest of the house. Patrick found that slightly spooky...</p>
<p>Behind the door was a small entranceway that lead to a spacious living room. The living room lead to a kitchen, which lead to a dining room. Patrick was surprised that there were separate spaces for cooking and eating, he'd always eaten in the kitchen at his old house.</p>
<p>Patrick decided to explore the house while his mother brought the boxes inside. He went down the hall off of the living room first. There were two bedrooms, two bathrooms, and a spiral staircase at the end of the hall. The staircase lead to the second story, which had a large room, two more bedrooms, and three more bathrooms. </p>
<p>Patrick went back to the spiral staircase, which went up to the attic. At the top of the stairs was a landing with a door. Patrick hesitantly pushed it open.</p>
<p>The attic had several large bookshelves lining the walls, filled with thick, dusty, old-looking books with yellowed pages. Boxes full of fancy hats, paintings, and other things that looked like they belonged a century ago littered the floor. Patrick was about to explore the place but he saw something move out of the corner of his eye. It looked like a person. He didn't need to see who it was. There shouldn't have been anyone in his house. He slammed the door and sprinted down the stairs.</p>
<p>"Mom, I think there's somebody in the attic," Patrick panted, out of breath from running. Patrick's mother laughed. "Don't worry, Pattycakes. It's probably a housekeeper cleaning up the place for us. This house hasn't been lived in for almost a century, they probably need to come in now and then to clean up the dust," she explained. "You wouldn't like having dust here with your asthma, would you?"</p>
<p>Patrick giggled nervously. "You're probably right," he said. "Maybe we should say hi to them or something. Thank them for cleaning up?" his mother suggested. Patrick agreed and they went upstairs to greet the person.</p>
<p>Except nobody was there. "I swear, I saw somebody move!" Patrick insisted, but his mother laughed. She knew he had an overactive, childlike imagination, despite being old enough to drive. "Maybe you saw a ghost!" she suggested, somewhat teasingly, but serious enough that Patrick wasn't sure if she meant it or not.</p>
<p>Patrick stayed in the attic, even after his mother went down to continue unpacking. All of a sudden, he heard a boy's voice behind him say, "You were right, you know." Patrick jumped, startled. "Wha -?" he stuttered.</p>
<p>"I was hiding in the big box in the corner. Had to take the Mona Lisa and a few other things out to fit," the boy said, pointing to the pile of paintings and empty gin bottles on the floor.</p>
<p>"Oh," Patrick said. "That makes sense. But what are you doing here? Who are you?" The boy looked to be around Patrick's age, and unlike most people, was only a few inches taller than Patrick. He had rather nice warm brown eyes and a wide, infectious grin. His skin was a light shade of chestnut. His hair was in dreadlocks. What concerned Patrick though, was that this boy's outfit looked like something straight out of an Arthur Conan Doyale novel.</p>
<p>"Peter Lewis Kingston Wentz the Third. You can call me Pete though," said the boy. "I've just been taking shelter here for a while. We can be friends if you want, but whatever you do, don't tell anybody about me. Okay?"</p>
<p>"Where are your parents?" Patrick asked. "And why do I need to keep you a secret?"</p>
<p>"My parents... have been dead for a while," Pete sighed. "And I... well... just... don't question it, okay? Nobody needs to know that I'm here."</p>
<p>"Okay Pete."</p>
<p>"Thanks Patrick."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. School and Secrets</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Patrick had to start school in a few days, so that night he and Pete went over the public transport system of San Francisco and planned a route to take to Patrick's new school. </p>
<p>Pete didn't go to school. He said he'd already learned everything. </p>
<p>Patrick asked him a few random questions to see if he actually knew everything, such as "what's an anaphora?" and "who was Aristotle's professor?" and Pete knew exactly how to answer them. However, Pete took a little longer on the math. He still got the questions right, but took a while to answer them. It was clearly not his best subject.</p>
<p>Needless to say, Pete was pretty smart. "How old are you, exactly?" Patrick asked him. "Seventeen," Pete answered. "I've read all the textbooks in here at least once, that's why I know so much."</p>
<p>Patrick wasn't sure if Pete was telling the truth, but he knew that he probably shouldn't ask, considering how secretive the boy was.</p>
<p>Patrick was tired after traveling for five days, so he said goodnight to his new friend. He had claimed the queen-sized bedroom on the second floor as his. He fell asleep pretty much immediately.</p>
<p>~</p>
<p>In the morning, Patrick was craving Frosted Flakes, but he was pretty sure he and his mother hadn't brought any cereal, or been to a supermarket since they arrived. He went to check the kitchen cupboards anyway, and to his pleasant surprise, there was a large box of Frosted Flakes in one of them. Maybe they'd packed that and forgotten about it.</p>
<p>Pete strolled into the kitchen. "Good morning," he said brightly. "I take it you like your cereal?"</p>
<p>"Shut up, my mom's gonna hear you!" Patrick hissed. Pete replied, "Oh don't worry, I'm completely fine."</p>
<p>"So you bought the cereal?" Patrick asked. "Well, I guess you could say that..." Pete chuckled. "I also just kinda guessed that Frosted Flakes are your favorite. Was I right?"</p>
<p>"Actually, yeah! You were. That's kinda creepy... not saying you're creepy, just... how how did you know?"</p>
<p>Pete smiled. "Lucky guess. I'm gonna go now, your mom's probably waking up." He left Patrick in the kitchen and walked back upstairs to the attic.</p>
<p>Sure enough, Patricia walked into the kitchen less than a minute after Pete had disappeared.</p>
<p>Patrick yawned. "Good morning, Mom." "Good morning, Patrick, I forgot we packed cereal!" "Oh, yeah. I put that in my duffel bag before we left," Patrick lied.</p>
<p>~</p>
<p>The next few days were spent teaching Pete to play D&amp;D. Pete had decided to be a changeling. It was rather awkward just having one character, but Patrick was a good dungeon master so he made it work.</p>
<p>Patrick thought it was cute when Pete tried to be dramatic. Pete wasn't exactly a great actor, but he always tried to do different voices for his changeling's different forms.</p>
<p>~</p>
<p>On the first day, Patrick bought a Subway sandwich before taking the train to school. He was pretty anxious about starting in the middle of the year at a new school, but even if he didn't make any friends there, he'd still have the boy hiding in his house.</p>
<p>The train smelled somewhat metallic, but Patrick liked the smell. It was familiar to him. He absentmindedly studied the ring on the woman next to him. Before long, the train arrived at the station Pete told Patrick to get off at. It was a few blocks away from his school.</p>
<p>Patrick didn't really know where his classes were, but he saw a building with a sign that said "office." So he decided to go there and ask for help.</p>
<p>A middle aged woman with a "may I speak to your manager" haircut and cat eye glasses sat behind a desk labled, "Karen Jones. Secretary."</p>
<p>"Oh hi sweetie, you must be Patrick. I have your schedule," she said cheerily. Patrick nodded. "Your mom called me last night. You seem like a lovely young man. Ryan, could you come here, please? Patrick's here."</p>
<p>A boy who had been sitting cross legged in a chair, texting, stood up. It was pretty clear he didn't want to be there. "Hi, my name is Ryan and I will be your buddy. I will help you find your classes and welcome you to this school. I look foreward to getting to know you," he said monotonously, clearly having rehearsed the speech several times.</p>
<p>Patrick forced a smile. He told himself that school would be okay, then showed Ryan his schedule. </p>
<p>Stumph, Patrick M.<br/>1. Gerard Way, Art, Room 13<br/>2. Hayley Williams, English Language Arts, Room 20<br/>3. Sarah Orzechowski, Chemistry, Room 17<br/>4. Nicole Row, Geometry, Room 4<br/>5. Franklin Iero, U.S. History, Room 15<br/>6. Raymond Toro, Phys. Ed., Gym</p>
<p>"Oh, it looks like they gave you the same schedule as me so you could have someone to lead you around," said Ryan. Patrick followed him to their first period class, which was art with Mr. Way.</p>
<p>The art studio was pretty great. There was paint splattered, spilled, and smeared everywhere, and Patrick couldn't tell if it was there on purpose or not but it looked cool. Mr. Way was a good looking man with longish, bright red hair. He was strutting around the classroom, humming an upbeat tune while mixing the paint on the palate he was carrying.</p>
<p>He looked up when he saw Ryan with the new kid, who must have been Patrick. "Oh hi Ryan, how are you? Is that Patrick?" he asked.</p>
<p>"Yeah, this is Patrick," Ryan said. Mr. Way looked at his watch. "Well, you two are a bit early today. You can wait here until class starts. Tell me a little about yourself , Patrick."</p>
<p>"I... well... I like D&amp;D," Patrick said. "Oh my gosh, so do I!" exclaimed Mr. Way. "I also like... Audrey Hepburn... Fangoria... Harry Houdini... croquet... Mr. Iero... wait... don't mind that last thing I just said." Ryan burst out laughing, but Patrick had no idea why.</p>
<p>"Anyway, we're going to be painting people today. It can be literally anyone. Someone from your imagination... someone you know... a character from a show or a movie or a game or a book... but don't use any resource pictures. Just paint them. Have fun!"</p>
<p>Patrick smiled to himself. This would be fun. He decided that he would paint a picture of Pete, since that was who Patrick was thinking about at that moment. He'd been thinking about Pete all morning, actually... it was kind of exciting having a friend that nobody knew about. He wouldn't tell anyone who the picture was supposed to represent, because that was kind of a secret, but he would paint the picture because he had a clear image of Pete's adorable grin in his mind.</p>
<p>As soon as the bell rang, the class came in and began getting their painting supplies ready. A few of them looked towards the Patrick, but carried on with their projects. Patrick was busy mixing a lightish brown tone. "I can tell you know what you're doing, Patrick, so I won't bother you," Mr. Way said. Patrick nodded in acknowledgement, then began painting.</p>
<p>When Patrick was done, he put his canvas on the table in the back of the room to dry. He had a few more minutes before the bell rang, so he decided to text Joe and Andy under his desk.</p>
<p>Cool Dudes<br/>Group Chat, 3 People</p>
<p>Patrick: Hey guys how are you?</p>
<p>Joe: dude stop texting in class wtf</p>
<p>Joe: jk ur good, im glad ur texting us</p>
<p>Joe: im doing good, how bout u?</p>
<p>Patrick: School is great so far, I have art 1st period and the teacher is really cool</p>
<p>Andy: That's great. Miss you, Trick.</p>
<p>Patrick: Miss you too dude. Hope you guys are still having fun</p>
<p>The conversation was interrupted by the loud buzzing sound of the school bell. Patrick put his phone away and hurried to follow Ryan to second period.</p>
<p>Miss Williams' classroom was cheery and bright, but not in that fake teacher way. It was a genuinely welcoming room.</p>
<p>"Okay, class. Take out your copies of A Christmas Carol," said Miss Williams after the class had settled down.</p>
<p>Patrick looked desperately towards Ryan, not knowing what to do. Ryan just shrugged at him, slightly annoyed that he had to be the "buddy" to the new kid. Patrick sighed.</p>
<p>Just then Miss Williams noticed him. "Oh, I have an extra copy! You can catch up during this period, just read to the bookmark I put in there. Welcome to our class. What's your name?"</p>
<p>"Patrick."</p>
<p>"Nice to meet you, Patrick. Let me update my roll call..." Miss Williams checked her computer. "Oh, I think I see you! Stum- stumph- stumfffffff?"</p>
<p>"It's pronounced Stump," Patrick corrected her. "Oh, sorry, I always feel bad for pronouncing names wrong!" Miss Williams apologized. "It's okay," said Patrick.</p>
<p>He had caught up to the class by the end of the period, as he was a rather fast reader. Miss Williams gave him a Snicker's bar as a welcome gift. Patrick liked her. Teacher-wise, school was pretty great so far.</p>
<p>And then it was break. Patrick followed Ryan down the hall in hopes of being his friend. Ryan walked across the quad to a dorky kid wearing flip-flops, and the two started talking excitedly about some Beatles cover they were planning to do.</p>
<p>The flip-flop guy suddenly noticed Patrick standing behind Ryan. "Um, dude, who's that?" Ryan turned around. "Oh. Hi, Patrick. I... didn't expect you to follow me."</p>
<p>"Oh. Well, y'know... I just, kinda wanted to hang out..." Patrick stammered, starting to sweat nervously. It seemed to him that Ryan didn't like him, and he hated seeming like that one person who other people pretend to be friends with so they don't look like jerks. </p>
<p>"Oh. Well, me and Jon... we're kinda busy. And... like... I dunno. We kinda wanna talk about personal stuff. And we don't really know you that well so... I mean... it's kinda... it's kinda awkward trying to be your friend," said Ryan.</p>
<p>Patrick forced a smile. "That's cool, man," he lied. "Totally understand."</p>
<p>He walked back to Miss William's room, fighting back tears. Goddammit, Patrick. Why are you always so annoying and desperate for friends? No wonder Joe and Andy were your only friends back in Chicago, he thought bitterly.</p>
<p>"Oh, hi Patrick. Is it too intense for you at break?" Miss Williams asked. "Yeah," said Patrick. "I get it, kid. I hope you're doing okay at this school," Miss Williams said. Patrick thought it was stupid to tell her the reason he was upset, since Ryan and his friend Jon had totally valid reasons for not hanging out with him. So he pretended he was okay. Miss Williams knew he wasn't, but she didn't say anything. She didn't want to pressure him into talking about personal things when they'd just met.</p>
<p>"The bell's about to ring, Patrick. What class do you have next?" she asked. Patrick pulled out his schedule. "It says... chemistry. Room 17."</p>
<p>"Oh! That's just down the hall, towards the cafeteria. Miss Orzechowski is super nice, you'll like her class," said Miss Williams. Patrick thanked her and left for his next class.</p>
<p>Since Patrick created an odd number of people in the class, he didn't have a lab partner. Miss Orzechowski, or Sarah, as she told the class to call her, told him to work with her.</p>
<p>That day the class was experimenting with hydrogen peroxide. Patrick was glad he worked with Sarah because she was really helpful. About halfway through class, Patrick heard a commotion from the room next door.</p>
<p>"NO, JAIME, I DON'T LIKE KELLIN! I'M NOT GAY, DUDE!"</p>
<p>"YEAH, RIGHT!"</p>
<p>The two boys who were yelling at each other burst out laughing. Patrick heard the teacher desparately trying to calm them down. Eventually they shut up.</p>
<p>Math was a good class. Miss Row was a good teacher, she gave challenging work but went at a reasonable pace and explained things in an easy way to remember. She, like all of Patrick's teachers so far, was pretty nice.</p>
<p>It was lunch at the end of the period. Patrick didn't really know what to do so he just started eating his sandwich in Miss Row's class.</p>
<p>Somebody tapped Patrick on the shoulder. He turned around and saw a dark-haired boy with a white streak, along with a shorter boy with brown hair. </p>
<p>"Hey, I'm Jack," said the skunk-haired boy. "And I'm Alex," said the other.</p>
<p>"Wanna come suck di-"</p>
<p>"No, Jack! Don't scare him away. Do you wanna come eat lunch with us?" Alex asked. "Oh! Uh... sure. Sounds great!" said Patrick. He was quite relieved that there were students who weren't total assholes at the new school...</p>
<p>They made their way to the cafeteria, where they sat down at a table with barely any room left for anyone else.</p>
<p>Most of the kids at the table didn't really talk to Patrick. They were too busy having weird conversations. He did, however, notice that there was a boy named Kellin there. He was probably the one that Patrick heard those boys yelling about...</p>
<p>Patrick didn't really know what to do, so he decided to scroll through his Instagram. After he'd mindlessly liked about fifty pictures and clicked through a bunch of really long stories, he texted Joe and Andy.</p>
<p>Patrick: Hey guys, how's life?</p>
<p>Joe: i totally didn't smoke bathroom in the weed...</p>
<p>Andy: I told you not to get high, Joe. Why didn't you listen to me?</p>
<p>Joe: dik</p>
<p>Joe: idk*</p>
<p>Andy: Haha, just ignore Joe. Anyway... we're both doing great, we got the librarian to DM for us.</p>
<p>Patrick: That's great. All I've managed to do is get ignored by everyone except the teachers cause I'm a nerd</p>
<p>Andy: Don't worry, man! We're always there for you.</p>
<p>Joe: love ya dude</p>
<p>Andy: I'm sure you'll find some friends... or move back to Chicago (:</p>
<p>Patrick: Thanks guys &lt;3</p>
<p>Patrick went back to scrolling through his Instagram, and then played Candy Crush for a little bit. He wished Pete was at school with him, or at least had a phone. He didn't know why a seventeen year old wouldn't have a phone...</p>
<p>After the bell rang, Patrick had history. He knew where room 15 was because he'd seen it in the hallway that morning on the way to art.</p>
<p>Mr. Iero was crazy, to say the least. He literally did a headstand on his desk for the entire lesson. Patrick could see why Mr. Way liked him... whatever he meant by "like."</p>
<p>Patrick was not looking forward to Phys. Ed. He didn't have any gym clothes, and, well, he wasn't in very good shape.</p>
<p>That day, the class was making cheerleading pyramids for whatever reason. Mr. Toro said it was a good way to build spirit and welcome the new student. Well... that was mierda de toro.</p>
<p>One girl told Patrick he should be on top of the pyramid because he looked small. Patrick didn't want to object because he didn't want people to judge him for his weight. So he got on top of the pyramid, causing the boy under him to collapse.</p>
<p>"Holy shit, what the fuck, dude?!" the boy exclaimed. "Damn, how much do you weigh?"</p>
<p>Kids all over the class started snickering. Patrick felt his face heat up.</p>
<p>"Brendon, that's not necessary," said Mr. Toro. "Class, why don't we climb ropes instead of building a pyramid? I'm sure that would be better for our personal space."</p>
<p>Patrick braced himself for more humiliation. At least he wouldn't be crushing anyone under his weight.</p>
<p>A girl came up to Patrick and whispered in his ear, "You'd be a better bottom, you know." She and her friends shrieked with laughter. Patrick was about to cry, when the loudspeaker went off.</p>
<p>"Patrick Stumph, please come to Mr. Way's classroom. Patrick Stumph?"</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Mr. Way Knows Things, Remember?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Patrick was really relieved after he'd heard the announcement. He was sure Mr. Toro had good intentions, and was a nice person in general, but P.E. was stupid and so were his classmates.</p>
<p>Ryan gave Patrick a look of disgust as he left the gym. "You almost broke Brendon's back, dude. That's not cool." Patrick ignored him.</p>
<p>He ran down the empty hall to the locker room where he'd left his backpack, then grabbed it and ran to the art studio. He could actually run pretty fast, but only when he wanted to.</p>
<p>"So, Patrick... this is a really beautiful picture. And I think you have great artistic potential. But that's not why I brought you here," said Mr. Way. "I hope I don't bother you with this question... but who is this boy you painted?"</p>
<p>Patrick shrugged. He didn't want to tell Mr. Way about Pete, since the two boys had built trust with each other, and Patrick would feel horrible for breaking that. Even if Pete never found out.</p>
<p>"Look, Patrick, I think I know this boy, if it's who I think it is. Is his name Peter by any chance?"</p>
<p>Patrick's breath caught in his throat. Sweat dripped down his forehead. How did Mr. Way know about Pete? Was he wanted by the government?</p>
<p>"It is, isn't it?" asked Mr. Way. "Don't worry, you're not in trouble and neither is he. But... I just want to know... how do you know him?"</p>
<p>"Well... he lives in my house," said Patrick. "Please, don't tell anyone about him, he's hiding in the attic and he didn't want me to tell anyone about him."</p>
<p>"Don't worry, kid. I'm not telling anyone. But... I know this boy. And so does my brother," Mr. Way said. "I really don't mean to pry, but... what's your relationship with this boy?"</p>
<p>"He's actually a really good friend," said Patrick. "He helped me find a way to get to school, he's been playing D&amp;D with me, he's a genuinely kind person. Why?" Patrick actually got a warm fuzzy feeling from Pete that he'd never gotten from Joe or Andy, but that was probably because it was a different kind of friendship.</p>
<p>"Patrick... my brother fell in love with him. And... that was all great and stuff... but Mikey grew up. And Pete didn't," said Mr. Way.</p>
<p>"Oh... so you just wanted to bring me here to tell me a joke?" Patrick asked. "You happen to know my friend so you wanted to tell me he's from Neverland or something. And he's gay. Well, at least I'm getting out of P.E."</p>
<p>Mr. Way sighed. "Look, kid... Pete Wentz hasn't been alive for nearly a century. He jumped off a hotel roof in 1922. That was a really long time ago. Even before the Golden Gate Bridge was built. What you're seeing... is a ghost. And only some people can see him, Patrick. That's why he doesn't leave your house. I don't think he wants you to find out. I mean, he's been haunting that mansion for a really long time, since it was unoccupied. Mikey just happened to be a brave kid... who wanted to explore the place. And that's how he found Pete. Look... I just want you to know that he won't be like your other friends. Mikey was heartbroken when Pete remained a child, and he grew into a man. I... I'm sorry you had to find out this way, Patrick."</p>
<p>Patrick stared blankly at Mr. Way. He had to be kidding, right? But he wasn't. Mr. Way was 100% serious.</p>
<p>Patrick forced a laugh. "It's not April fools day, Mr. Way," he said.</p>
<p>Mr. Way started to get frustrated. "I know it's not." He paced the art studio, trying to find a way to tell Patrick that he wasn't joking.</p>
<p>Patrick started to realize that Mr. Way actually believed what he was saying, and that freaked him out. "Can I go back to gym class, sir? I don't want to get docked on participation points," he said, trying to get away from his crazy teacher.</p>
<p>He turned to leave the art studio when Mr. Way said, "Mr. Toro knows that what I'm telling you is true. He was there when Pete met Mikey, and he watched Pete stay young forever. I'm not crazy, Patrick. And I might as well add, Mr. Iero knows too."</p>
<p>Patrick left anyway, and walked back to the gym. He might as well just let his classmates humiliate him, if that meant he got to avoid the art teacher. He considered talking to the school board about Mr. Way's mental stability, but he knew they would either not have time for him or not take him seriously. And he didn't want to risk getting Pete into trouble.</p>
<p>For about ten minutes, Patrick awkwardly avoided climbing the rope, as he knew he could barely hoist himself up onto the bottom knot. Then Mr. Toro's cellphone started ringing.</p>
<p>"Oh, hi Gee." Mr. Toro smiled, and then his face fell. He turned to Patrick, mouth slightly gaping.</p>
<p>"Oh... oh wow. I should... probably tell him."</p>
<p>Patrick was freaking out. Why was Mr Toro staring? Who was this Gee person? Oh... probably Mr. Way. His first name was Gerard... Gee... short for Gerard... Oh. That was worse. Mr. Way was calling about his delusions. And Mr. Toro seemed to believe him.  Holy smokes.</p>
<p>"Patrick, why don't we go outside for a sec? You're not in trouble. I just want to talk."</p>
<p>"Ok," said Patrick. He didn't want to "talk," but he hated disobeying adults.</p>
<p>"So, Mr. Way told you," said Mr. Toro. Patrick's face crinkled in disgust. Mr. Toro believed Mr. Way's ghost story? Were they having some kind of shared madness? He'd learned the term for that in English class back in Chicago... it was called folie à deux.</p>
<p>"It's true, if you were wondering," Mr. Toro said. "Okay..." Patrick laughed uneasily, not wanting to get in trouble for back talking a teacher but also feeling incredibly uncomfortable.</p>
<p>"Look, you don't have to believe me, kid. It's all right. Just... me and Mr. Way aren't just telling you this as a joke. It's ok though... just... I know you don't want to talk right now. You can go back to the gym."</p>
<p>After the last few minutes of awkwardly avoiding physical exertion, Patrick ran to the school gate, and down to the train station. He was excited to tell Pete what his delusional teachers had said about him.</p>
<p>~</p>
<p>Pete was hiding in Patrick's closet, apparently bored as he was playing with a pile of coat hangers. Patrick giggled, it was the cutest thing he'd ever seen.</p>
<p>"Dude, you'll never guess what my teachers said today!" he exclaimed. "They're so crazy."</p>
<p>"What did they say?" asked Pete. "Well, I painted a picture of you in art class," said Patrick. "And then my art teacher, Mr. Way said he knew you... and you're a ghost. But he really seemed to believe what he's saying... I don't think he's right in the head. But then my gym teacher also believes him... and apparently so does my history teacher... they're all crazy."</p>
<p>Pete's face went pale and his expression darkened. "I'm sorry, Patrick," he muttered, before literally fading into thin air.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. The Truth</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Patrick grabbed his phone, ran to the kitchen in a cold sweat, left a note on the counter to his mother that he would be gone for a little bit and she could call him if she was worried, and then ran outside, only to realize he couldn't go back to school because the train wasn't scheduled to run there at that time. And all the staff would have left as well, since school was out.</p>
<p>He didn't know what to do, so he just went to the Subway he'd gone to that morning. He bought a bag of chips, then frantically paced the parking lot. What could he do to get away from the ghost in his house? Oh right, his schedule had all of his teacher's emails on it! Thank god he'd taken a picture of it that morning. He decided that he would ask Mr. Way.</p>
<p>To: Gerard Way<br/>From: Patrick Stumph<br/>Subject: Help Me</p>
<p>Dear Mr. Way,</p>
<p>You were right... I'm kinda freaking out because Pete literally just disappeared? Like I told him </p>
<p>you told me he's a ghost and then he just... vanished? Right in front of me? So I left the house </p>
<p>and I don't want to go back there but I can't really go anywhere? Mom knows I left btw, I left her </p>
<p>a note so she can call me if she gets worried. If you could pick me up I'd really appreciate it. </p>
<p>I'm at the Subway by the Petsmart btw.</p>
<p>Your Student,</p>
<p>Patrick Stumph</p>
<p>Sent From My iPhone</p>
<p>__________________</p>
<p>Patrick hadn't noticed his hands were balled up, or that his brows were crinkled, or that he was sweating all over, until he'd hit the "send" button. He really did look funny to the passers by, they had no idea what the small, strawberry-blonde teenager was so worked up about. The thing was, Patrick really hated sending emails. They were so formal, and different people always expected different things from them. He didn't want to seem like an idiot to Mr. Way. And of course, what the fuck are you supposed to do when you're trying to escape a haunted house and you're relying on an art teacher you just met to get you out of there?</p>
<p>He sat down on a bench and scrolled through the group chat he had with Joe and Andy. He didn't want to text them, but at the same time, he wanted some form of interaction... </p>
<p>Suddenly, after Patrick had been looking at his phone for about ten minutes, a white 1979 Pontiac Trans Am with an American flag painted on the side and a spider painted on the hood pulled up to the curb in front of him. "Get in!" yelled a man with a strong New Jersey accent. It was Mr. Way, sitting in the driver's seat, revving the engine. Never did Patrick think he would be so grateful to see him. There was also a lanky man sitting shotgun, but Patrick didn't mind, since he just needed someone to get him away from his haunted house.</p>
<p>"So kid, how about we get coffee?" suggested Mr. Way. "Sure?" said Patrick. "Cool. This is my brother Mikey. Mikey, this is Patrick." Mikey gave Mr. Way a knowing look, then nodded at Patrick. It appeared that he didn't smile much.</p>
<p>After driving for about five minutes, Mr. Way pulled up to the curb in front of a place called "Three Cheers for Sweet Caffeine." The three walked in. It was actually quite nice, there was a fluffy rug by a fireplace, surrounded by a few beanbag chairs and several large, comfy armchairs.</p>
<p>The barista smiled at them. "Hey Mikey, wasn't your shift yesterday?" he asked. "Oh yeah. I just wanted to come in to talk to this new kid," said Mikey. "Oh cool! Since it's you and your brother, you get free drinks," said the barista, then directed his attention to Patrick. "I'm Rian by the way. What's your name?" "I'm Patrick. Nice to meet you." Patrick and Rian shook hands, and then Mr. Way and Mikey ordered black coffees without any hesitation. Patrick stared at the menu for a little bit, then decided on hot chocolate.</p>
<p>They sipped their hot drinks on the beanbag chairs for a while, before Mr. Way said, "He won't hurt you, you know. He just wants to be your friend. It's lonely being a ghost." Patrick spluttered and hot chocolate dribbled down his chin. "I- I- I... but... he's..." "Yes, Patrick. But you live there. And Pete's a wonderful person. Give it a chance. Seems like you enjoyed his company before you learned what he was. Don't see why you'd have to give that up."</p>
<p>Patrick nodded. Mr. Way had a point. "Hey kid, make sure you keep Pete happy," said Mikey. "Okay. I will. We'd better get back to my house or Mom will worry," said Patrick.</p>
<p>Mikey stayed at the coffee shop to help Rian clean up, while Mr. Way drove Patrick home. He parked about a block away so that Mrs. Stumph wouldn't worry about Patrick letting strangers drive him around.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Let's Start Over</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>&lt;&lt;&gt;&gt;</p>
<p>Patrick slipped his key into the door, turned the knob, and winced at the creaking sound. He knew his mom would hear him come in, and then he'd have to distract her before he talked to Pete.</p>
<p>"Hey, you're back!" she smiled. "Do you have any homework tonight?" Patrick inwardly groaned. "Umm... no, I don't think I'm registered in the gradebook yet..." he mumbled, in an attempt to get her to leave him alone. "Well, why don't you come and help me unpack some boxes?" she suggested, crushing Patrick's mood. He knew he couldn't get around it.</p>
<p>After about thirty minutes, Patrick and his mother were both exhausted. "You know, you can go do something else now. I think we've both had a long enough day," declared Ms. Stumph. Patrick sighed in relief. "Thanks Mom!"</p>
<p>Now the problem was, he didn't know where Pete was. So first he went to his room and whisper-shouted, in hopes that the ghost boy would find him. No luck, so he tried in the attic, and then in several closets. He was going through a particularly dark closet without lights, when suddenly a feather tickled his nose. "Gah! Pete?"</p>
<p>Pete's unmistakable giggle broke out in the closet. Patrick chuckled, partly out of uneasiness, partly out of relief. "Let's get out of here," whispered Pete. They tiptoed to Patrick's room, where he locked the door.</p>
<p>They were awkwardly silent until Pete said, "Hey Patrick. I'm sorry for disappearing on you... that wasn't a good way to prove a point... and I don't know what it should have proven anyway. That was... really shitty. Really fucking shitty!"</p>
<p>Patrick snorted. "What?" Pete asked. "Sorry. Just didn't think people swore like that back in your day." "Well, I was around Mikey when he was playing Super Smash Bros and it kinda wore off on me."</p>
<p>"So... can you please explain? Just everything. Why are you a ghost? What happened with Mikey? Just... what happened in general, Pete?" Patrick asked. Pete sighed. </p>
<p>"Well... here goes. My parents were an interracial couple in the early twentieth century. I had to hide my racial identity from everyone, and my parents and I were basically hermits. We lived in a shed. I went to school... but pretty soon I got kicked out for being a 'filthy, homeless beggar.' My parents taught me what they could, but pretty soon I just ended up working in a factory because they couldn't financially support me or my siblings. Around thirteen I started fancying girls... and also boys. It isn't exactly great being bisexual and biracial in the 1920s. I actually kissed a boy when I was fifteen, and I wrote about it in my secret diary. Well, when I was seventeen, my dad found the diary. And he kicked me out... I guess I was able to make do without a family for maybe a week or so. I was staying in a hotel. I was running out of money though. And then I just decided it wasn't worth it. And... I jumped off the roof."</p>
<p>There was an awkward silence. Patrick stared at a wall.</p>
<p>"So... anyway, Patrick. As a ghost, I can make physical contact with people and objects. But... only people who have a soul connection with me can see me. And when I'm completely invisible, no one can see me. I... yeah... I... I guess that's how it works."</p>
<p>"I love my dad, Pete. But he's back in Chicago. My parents are divorced. I haven't played my guitar in weeks, it makes me too sad. I'm not in a place to say I understand your situation, but I have empathy and compassion for you."</p>
<p>Patrick wrapped his arms around the ghost boy, and Pete hugged him back. Yes, it had occurred to Patrick before how cold Pete was, but it had never really slipped into his consciousness. Pete was soft though. Like a field of flowers. As the boys embraced, Patrick realized how much he loved Pete's affection.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. What Is This, Exactly?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Patrick felt his hand tingling, he wanted to hold Pete's hand in his. Pete was thinking the same thing, and reached his hand out and grasped Patrick's. Patrick cuddled into Pete's side.</p>
<p>"Sorry... I can't help it... you're so cute..." Patrick squeaked almost involuntarily.</p>
<p>"I- oh- ok..." Pete stuttered. "Uhhh... you too..."</p>
<p>The boys cuddled for a few minutes, then Patrick pulled away awkwardly. "Pete... you're dead. I'm... being gay... with a ghost. And... enjoying it. I've... never felt this way before... but I shouldn't. You're ice cold. I wish you were warm. But... I... never mind. I like this." He wrapped his arms around Pete again, then leaned forward quickly and kissed him. Pete kissed back. </p>
<p>They kept kissing. It didn't stop. Until Patrick's mom called for dinner. "See you," Pete grinned.</p>
<p>"What is this, exactly?" asked Patrick before getting dinner. "Us?" asked Pete. Patrick nodded. "Whatever you want it to be."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Three Weeks Later</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They were in love. Pete and Patrick. The ghost and the living boy. No one knew this of course. Especially not the teachers or Mikey. They would have a fit. The secret was fun to keep though.</p>
<p>Patrick had even given Pete a cheap cellphone. Pete tried to eat it. But then he figured out how to use it, and the boys texted all the time.</p>
<p>It was all surprisingly innocent; clothes were on at all times, nothing X rated happened. It was enough for them though. They had their own ways of enjoying each other.</p>
<p>They would watch the sunsets, fingers intertwined, just being there. It didn't need any talking, any explanation. It was wonderful.</p>
<p>They knew it wouldn't last forever. Patrick would grow up, grow old, pass on. But they would enjoy it while they could.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Just A Normal Day</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Patrick stepped into the house, exhausted from school. He knew his mom wasn't home, so he called for Pete.</p>
<p>No response.</p>
<p>He went upstairs, called again. Nothing.</p>
<p>Then to the attic. Still nothing.</p>
<p>His heart pounded, his breath got shaky, he knew he was going to cry. "PETE!" he screamed. He fell to his knees, sobbed, surrendered his panic. "Baby, please."</p>
<p>He pulled out his phone, tried to distract himself, but he had a notification.</p>
<p>To: Patrick Stumph<br/>From: Gerard Way<br/>Subject: I'm Sorry</p>
<p>Hi Patrick,</p>
<p>I saw you with Pete the other day, holding hands, watching the sunset. I know it's none of my business, but it reminded me too much of Mikey.</p>
<p>I sent his spirit away from this world. He's gone. I'm sorry.</p>
<p>Mr. Way</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chicago</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Four Months Later</p>
<p>Patrick had moved back to Chicago, and was about to start school. His dad was driving him there.</p>
<p>He went to his first period class, and was slightly early. It was only him and a few other kids so far.</p>
<p>Then an emo-looking boy walked into the classroom. He flipped his bangs out of his face and- holy smokes.</p>
<p>Patrick ran to the boy. "Pete??? How- what- you're dead-"</p>
<p>"Sorry what? How do you know my name?"</p>
<p>"I- you- you're gone-"</p>
<p>"I'm alive as far as I know."</p>
<p>Patrick stuttered incoherently, then gained his composure and smiled at Pete. "Sorry, I'm Patrick. It's a long story. Do you want to talk at lunch?"</p>
<p>Pete smiled. "Of course, I'd like to hear the story."</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>